Late Night Gamble
by LotornoMiko
Summary: It was supposed to be nothing more than a gamble. A simple bet to pass the time. So how come Hook is finding himself both the winner and the loser out of a simple drinking contest? Hook, Belle, and one night stands that are detrimental to a pirate's health and sanity.


Disclaimer time. I do not own Once Upon a Time, or the characters from that show. I do not make money off of this story. It is done purely for entertainment purposes.

-Michelle

There was no time for conflicted emotions, no time to worry about what was and wasn't a good idea. There was only now, Hook all but slamming Belle against the wall. She took the impact with little complaint, her mouth hot and eager. The strong taste of rum and brandy was on both their tongues, making the fevered kiss even more intoxicating. Hook groaned into Belle's mouth, amazed, desperately aroused, and beyond caring that he was signing his own death warrant.

He was also undeniably drunk. But so was she. And Hook couldn't tell who was worse off. It didn't matter. The sought after outcome of their little gamble, whose stakes had seemed so high, no longer seemed important. Not when she was kissing him back just as eagerly, her hands on him, fisting at his hair in an attempt to pull him even closer than he already was.

Damn. He should be inside her already. This close? With him fitted between her spread thighs? Only their clothing was a barrier, and he could take care of that soon enough. But Belle was proving to be a handful of a woman, eager and wanton, rubbing, squirming, distracting him with her movements.

Not that he particularly minded this new found aspect of her. Certainly she was getting a rise out of him, his leather trousers growing tight and uncomfortable. He rubbed back against her, but that didn't alleviate the pressure on his groin. If anything, their grinding made the situation worse, Hook growling. If he wasn't careful, he'd spill right then and there, and the pirate would see himself thrice damned before he let some woman make a fool of him that way.

Even if that woman was Belle with her needy, hot kisses, quick wit, and fine ability to drink an inordinate amount of expensive rum and brandy. God but she had looked sexy, her jacket removed, so that her bare arms were exposed. With a rum bottle in one hand, Belle meeting and holding his gaze, purposefully, sexily, mouthing the opening of the bottle.

The little tease! Purposefully baiting him into this. But then Hook wasn't that surprised. Women ALWAYS wanted him. From the time when he had been little than a strapping youth, barely out of his teens, to when he had grown into the confidant, swaggering pirate he currently was. No wonder Belle had been unable to keep away. She had probably been itching to do him, since the first instant they had laid eyes on each other. Back in that Queen's tower. How badly the ache must have been for Belle to go without him for this long, Hook thought smirking.

His train of thought had Hook convinced Belle had manipulated the situation into what it was now. Even though he couldn't remember who had proposed the bet in the first place, the pair looking to kill some time while waiting for that crocodile Rumplestiltskin to walk into Hook's trap.

Of course Hook had only agreed to the gamble under the confidant assumption that Belle would not be able to out drink him. Certainly he hadn't expected her to go toe to toe with him, downing bottle after bottle of his best and most expensive drinks. Had he actually worried that she would win? But then he hadn't intended to honor the bet, having no intention to let her go if she DID win.

But now it seemed she had forgotten the reason behind their drinking, and Hook couldn't remember who had started the first kiss. Probably him, judging by how crazed he had gotten with the trick she had done with her tongue and the bottle. Certainly he recalled leaping over a table, but Belle might have been rising to meet him halfway.

And now here they were, and she tasted so good, smelled good, felt good. It didn't matter that her kisses weren't as expert as he was used to. Didn't matter that Hook had to guide her tongue at first, to teach her how he liked to be kissed. She learnt fast, and that was all that mattered, that and the sweet, hot feel of her.

He couldn't take it anymore. He pushed them both away from the wall, Belle's legs and arms wrapped around him for support, the woman clinging to him as he half carried, half stumbled his way to the nearest soft surface. A couch he thought, by the feel of the cushions beneath them.

Belle wasn't eager to let go, Hook having to pry her hands off himself. She kept on trying to kiss him, trying to grab at him, forcing Hook to gather her wrists, and pin them down over her head. The sexiest pout was givien him, Belle breathing hard, her lips red and swollen from his kisses. What Hook wouldn't give, but he refused to follow that train of thought.

His own breath rasping heavily, he put his hook to the center of her shirt. To the part that strained to cover her breasts. She looked so trustingly at him, not fearing all the things he COULD do. But something, the intoxication of the rum, or maybe her kisses, kept him from wanting to hurt her, though he didn't spare her blouse.

With a violent jerk downwards, his hook split the shirt and the bra beneath it in two. Her breasts actually bounced, Hook's mouth watering at the sight of them. And then he was falling on her, burying his face against her, planting moist kisses over one taught nipple.

There was many reasons to regret the fact he didn't have both hands to use. But never had he missed his hand more, than when handling Belle's body. He didn't dare touch her with his sharp hook, and in the moment he didn't want to let go of her wrists. Hook made do with his mouth, kissing, licking, mouthing hungrily at her. Until she was crying out, bucking against his hold, arching her back to press herself more insistently against Hook's lips.

He did not refuse her, taking her nipple into his mouth, sucking on it, making her sing even sweeter in response to the pleasing stimulation he offered her. He rolled that pebbled nipple against his tongue, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked with all his might. Belle continued to go wild beneath him, her cries such that it made Hook think he could come from that sound alone.

Fluid dribbling out the tip of him, Hook could wait no longer. He let go of her wrists, and immediately Belle tried to sit up, reaching for the fastenings of his trousers. He tried to chase her hands away, but she was determined, getting his pants open, his dick out for her inspection. She didn't just look, Belle touched, fingers caressing, hand squeezing. She even went so far as to taste him, Hook's hips moving with a mind of their own. The squeal she let out, vibrated down his shaft, Hook closing his eyes and thrusting slower, gentler this time.

The next thing he knew, Belle was gripping his hips, her mouth eager, welcoming. Hook couldn't stop thrusting, couldn't control himself in the moment. It had been too long since he had a woman, let alone a woman this eager, this willing to do this for him.

Bending over her, reaching under her skirt that was hiked up around her thighs, Hook ripped Belle's panties free. She wasn't just wet, she was virtually soaked, Hook's fingers sliding effortlessly along her slit. The sign of her readiness was the only thing that kept him from releasing in her mouth, Hook somehow finding the strength to pull free of that inviting heat.

Belle was making a whining protest, still trying to go for his dick. Hook pinned her down once more, rubbing his erection against her slippery wetness. She gasped in response, the tip of his hard length having rubbed directly over the swollen bit of flesh that was a bundle of pleasurable nerves in a woman's body.

When he rubbed it again, she stopped fighting, spreading her legs even more. She actually kept her hands to herself this time, allowing Hook to grip her hip with his good hand, the pirate tensing as he geared to thrust inside her. The shock of feeling her hymen tear, almost sobered them both up, the two staring at each other. Belle's mouth had fallen open, but she hadn't voice so much as a whimper of pain.

Even as he felt the proof, saw the blood, Hook still was stunned to learn she had been a virgin. Hell, he thought to himself, knowing the crocodile was definitely going to kill him for this. But at the same time, he might as well finish, might as well die with a smile on his face. And it was Rumplestiltskin's own fault for leaving Belle untouched. For leaving a woman like this to go unsated.

Reasoning seeming to justify everything, Hook began to move. Thrusting deeper into Belle, feeling her struggle to accommodate not only his size, but her first penetration ever. That knowledge made him crazy, Hook once again losing control. His hips began a determined rhythm, Hook fucking Belle as she reached up to hug him to her.

Belle's cries of pleasure were sounding in his ear, over and over again. Hook's lips were buried in the crook of her shoulder, the man kissing one moment, biting the next. Marking her with the proof of his possession.

Neither one lasted very long. The instant Belle began to climax, her muscles convulsing, clenching tighter around him in an attempt to milk out his seed? Hook gave in, pouring everything he had inside her. She never let go of him, not with her arms, and not with her sex. Hook would actually be pulled down to collapse on top of her, the two drifting off into a drunk but satisfied slumber.

Hours later, with the sun filtering in through a porthole, Hook would wake. He'd find himself still buried inside Belle's body, his dick not caring who she was, or what this meant. He'd grow hard all over again, his body wanting to do a repeat performance of the night before.

He held himself as still as he could manage, raising up on elbow just enough to stare down at Belle's beautiful, still sleeping face. Images of the night before flashed through his mind, but one thought was the most predominant of all. Shit! He was a dead man...

So...*debates on hiding from any potential lynch mobs* Okay...okay...I make no bones about it. I've been craving to write Hook smut all week. *blush* But I didn't intend to actually write one anytime soon...but then tonight I tried to sleep. Key word TRIED. Laid down around 11 pm, gave up around 2 am. But I didn't think I could write anything, I felt so drained and needed sleep desperately. But I let my mind wander, thinking about Taken, and how I need to write chapter two once I get some sleep.

And well, thinking about Taken fic, I started musing a what if scenario. A what if for some reason Belle and Hook got drunk together. And then I thought, what if it's a drinking contest, a proposal Belle makes where Hook has to let her go, if she can out drink him. Only it goes horribly wrong, and they end up drunkenly pawing and sexing each other up.

In my head, this is some kind of twisted alternate universe of season 2, episode eleven. A what if moment, where Gold didn't get to the ship right away. So Hook got to hold Belle hostage, and Bae's scarf too, and to pass the time, they started drinking and one thing led to another, and a bet happened, and then heavy drinking began in earnest, and then! Hook Belle smut!

*gets shot*

This is meant to be a one shot. Though I can already see potential plot bunny ideas that make me want to continue it. But for now...trying to keep it to a one shot ficlet.

I think I'm becoming a Hook Belle shipper as well as a Belle Rumplestiltskin shipper. *dies*

-Michelle


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